poem 2 of address

Morning Star

Have my way

Have my edge

My over

And over

Have this ancient impulse, this transparency

I sit

For you to whom I’ve knelt

For whom my hair has grown, been covered, braided, admonished

For whom I preserve the night, find out the least about others

Virgin Most Mild

Virgin there when mother took father’s belt from the hook

Virgin who heard anger deafen my ear

Lady of the smallest leaf, spring green

Mother of ancestors

Mother of my ancestors’ gods

Available Light

For whom bruises are the reasons for knees, blisters for hands that finger rosaries

Take my way

My edge

Cup